In the highlands of Peru, there's a world entirely on its own, set apart from the pace of contemporary life. Traditions and cultural practices here have remained largely unchanged, not necessarily by choice, but due to the demands of the natural environment and the enduring influence of the Inca Empire. The people’s involuntary resistance to modernity and deep connection to their Inca heritage was truly inspiring to witness and experience.

Full photo gallery here.

This year has been particularly tough for me. Losing my father earlier in the year has made life feel more complicated than usual. Time has flown by, and my motivation has been low; Grief is a heavy thing. Yet, I’ve tried to keep creating memories my father would be proud of, honoring his teachings and the incredible support he gave me in my cycling journey. I’ve always felt a bit shy about sharing my life, but my dad encouraged me to share my photos and stories, telling me they inspired him. This adventure in Peru, and those to come, are in his memory.

I had dreamed of visiting Peru for 12 years, especially the region of Cusco. The towering heights of its mountains and the allure of Machu Picchu, one of the 7 modern wonders, captured my attention and drew me in. So, when I mentioned that I wanted to go to an ultradistance race there to my partner, Cooper, we joined forces to compete as a duo and finally fulfill my dream of seeing the Peruvian Andes.

This photo collection is my attempt to share the way I process my memories, especially using analog photography. Though it has become costly and time-consuming, I cherish it for special moments. This technique forces me to reflect more on what I want to capture and why, ensuring I don’t waste a single shot. During the selection, editing, and correction process, I discover new things in my photos. It’s a process that deeply nourishes my soul.

The trip nearly didn’t happen due to an oversight: I failed to notice that my passport would expire two days before the six-month validity required for my return flight. It sounds complex, right? Since my itinerary was with the same airline, the worst happened—I wasn’t allowed to board the plane. I felt like the most foolish person in the world, but I decided to exhaust all options to get to Peru. What did I do? I had to travel to another state (Puebla) to get an urgent appointment the next day and renew my passport. I called the airlines to see if they could change my flight date at a lower cost. The calls were endless, and I shed many tears, but only the local airline changed my itinerary at no charge.

Getting that passport was a horrible experience; I had to travel to Puebla multiple times, which took an emotional toll on me. Although the trip was nearly ruined by my mistake, I was surprised by my ability to resolve the situation. Despite crying and being exhausted, I explored every possibility to make it happen. It wasn’t worth lamenting my errors; all I could do was keep trying. It’s one of those moments when you ask yourself: how badly do you really want this to happen?

I decided to hold on, and fortunately, after a few days of grueling paperwork, I secured my passport, and we flew to Peru four days later than planned. After a flight to Bogotá, Colombia, then to Lima, Peru, and finally to Cusco, my soul was at peace, though my body was exhausted.

After 20 hours of travel, we wandered like zombies through downtown Cusco, looking for a place to exchange pesos for soles. We stumbled upon a vibrant parade full of color and people in traditional dress. It was a prelude to the traditional celebration of Inti Raymi, or the Festival of the Sun, one of the most important festivities of the Inca Empire. We watched indigenous communities from Cusco's 13 regions parade through the city center. It was beautiful and inspiring to see the communities proudly displaying their heritage in such stunning attire. It’s a shame we couldn’t stay longer because we were dead tired.

The next day, after sleeping another 20 hours, we assembled our bikes and rode around Cusco to get used to the altitude. Later, we met with the race organizer to pick up our race kit and clarify questions about the route. We didn’t feel ready for what lay ahead, but we were there, so we just had to go for it.

And so the journey began, with exhaustion, altitude sickness, and an especially slow pace. I felt like I had a cold from the pre-trip stress, and worse yet, my period started the day before the race, leaving me bloated and in pain. I also noticed that I couldn’t use all my gears because the hanger of my bike must have bent during transport. We also realized we were carrying much more than the other participants. I often asked myself, "Why am I doing this?" but tried to calm my mind and focus only on the road ahead.

I broke my front light in the dark; the plastic mount was too flimsy, and the light was too heavy. It flew off after a rough bump. I stopped to search for it, and while doing so, all the other competitors passed me. Morale was low, but I decided to keep going at my own pace.

We rode for a while in the dark. Cooper lent me a small light he had, and as we entered the Sacred Valley, the sunrise revealed breathtaking views: layers upon layers of mountains bathed in the first light, a spectacle of textures and colors.

We arrived in Ollantaytambo, a beautiful Incan city with a lot of history, though quite touristy. The heat started to pick up, so we stopped for coffee and to shed some layers. We crossed the city and followed a trail that connected to a road. From there, we could see our first challenging climb in the distance: Abra Malaga.

We sipped coffee as our brevet cards were stamped. The race organizer asked us several times if we wanted to continue, and each time, we answered, “yes.” We were determined to push on, even knowing how challenging it would be. After he left to follow the race leaders, we set off on the longest descent of our lives. As we descended at sunset, we were treated to a breathtaking light show, with the mountains coming alive in a play of shapes and textures.

Abra Malaga reaches a maximum elevation of 4,400 meters above sea level (14,500 ft), and with no time to acclimate, it felt especially tough. It took us a long time, but as we had agreed, we went at our own pace. On the climb, we saw many Incan ruins and began to spot my favorite animal: alpacas grazing on the mountainside, which lifted our spirits. After several hours, we reached Checkpoint 1 at the top of Abra Malaga.

When we finished descending, it was already dark, and a bit of rain soaked us. We went from extreme cold to tropical heat, very close to Machu Picchu. I was exhausted, and with over 300 kilometers still to go, we decided to stop in Quillabamba, a city 290 kilometers away, to rest.

The next day, we faced the longest, most exhausting climb in the jungle, following the river. The heat was unbearable, even before the sun rose. The road was so narrow that cars honked at the curves to signal their approach. Huge trucks passed us, making me realize the seriousness of what we were doing. We had to stay very alert; one wrong move, and we could fall off a cliff.

It took us almost all day to reach Quebrada Honda, where we stopped to eat at a restaurant. We slept a few hours in a hotel and set out at dawn towards Lares, knowing we had two mountain passes ahead, both at 4500 meters above sea level (14,800 ft). I was very tired of climbing with my heavy bike and considered ways to return to Cusco. There was an option at the top of Abra Lares; we could shorten the route and finally stop climbing.

We set out for Lares very early. We crossed many streams in the dark, which traumatized me. I only remember the jungle turning into a forest as we climbed. My mind went blank; I didn’t want to talk, just keep going.

The path became beautiful, with a view of a river that calmed me. We reached Lares at sunset and sat down in a restaurant to plan our strategy. Lares was check point 2, but the person who stamped the manifest wasn’t there, so we had to call them and wait.

We decided to stay in a hotel because I had a terrible cough and couldn’t continue climbing Abra Lares and Abra Amparaes. After resting, we set out early to tackle Abra Lares, hoping my will to continue would be enough. Abra Lares was gorgeous, with alpacas and small stone houses along the way. I held on to ride more and climb the next mountain pass at 4500 meters: Abra Amparaes.

Climbing Abra Amparaes felt like being drunk; it was the highest mountain pass I’ve ever ridden in my entire cycling career. Everything moved in slow motion; I couldn’t go fast. The views, the wind, and the colors were out of this world. I don’t know how long it took me to reach the top, but it was a lot. I distracted myself by counting alpacas, who looked at me in surprise before running away. We descended for a couple of hours and stopped in the first village we found to eat and rest. A very kind woman welcomed us into her home/restaurant and prepared us some chicken sandwiches. Food made with love is just what I needed in that moment of exhaustion.

The final stretch was the most exhilarating part of the race, as it included more gravel paths than weathered roads. We followed another river to ascend the last mountain pass, whose name escapes me. The views during the descent were breathtaking, but Cooper tore his tire, and we stopped for quite a while to repair it. It was then I realized my camera wasn’t working; the film roll was stuck, and in my attempt to fix it, I accidentally exposed part of the film. I was without a camera until we returned to Cusco. I felt really sad, but I continued taking photos with my phone. It wasn’t the same, but it would have to do—sometimes things just happen.

After that descent, everything becomes a blur in my mind. I was fed up with the endless climbs and descents, but the gravel road alongside the river, passing through remote villages, was beautiful. The exhaustion weighed heavily, but quitting wasn’t an option. All that was left was to follow the route, think less about the pain, and relish the privilege of being able to dedicate entire days to riding.

When we finally returned to the Sacred Valley, an immense happiness washed over me. We stopped at a curve to take in the last view of the valley, with the ruins of Pisac in the distance. We congratulated each other, cried, and hugged—we had made it. The hardest part was over.

We arrived in a very touristy part of Cusco, passing by Saqsaywaman, a ceremonial temple on the outskirts of the city. Being a Saturday, Cusco was teeming with traffic and tourists, making our entry chaotic. I felt that any misstep could result in an accident.

Upon entering the city, we met up with the race organizer, who wanted to talk to us. Though we weren’t in the mood, we went to see him. We received good news: some people had dropped out of the race, so even though we were the last to finish, we managed to secure second place in the pairs category.

After a brief conversation with the organizer, we took a victory lap through the center of Cusco and then headed to our lodging. We were exhausted, with no appetite, only wanting to sleep. And that’s what we did—we slept for days.

We stayed a few more days enjoying Cusco, the city center, and the mountain views. Then we headed to the town of Maras and stayed in a self-sustaining villa we had contacted months earlier. Maras is known for its salt mines and being on a plateau with stunning views of the mountains, especially Chicón.

The days in Maras passed slowly. We walked a lot and hardly saw anyone; the town seemed frozen in time. I loved the tranquility it exuded. Occasionally, we saw vans with tourists who only went to the one open restaurant and then left. We tried to do local things in Maras, but honestly, there weren’t many options, so the best we could do was explore on foot.

We didn’t want to leave. The peace we found in our last days in Peru was a great gift. The energy of the mountains is undeniable; I understand why they are considered sacred. We will return. The journey taught us that some things take longer than expected.

You can check out the race route here. Be patient, though; the file is quite large.

Full photo gallery here.

Special thanks to Higher Athletics for supporting us with our race expenses. AIM HIGHER↑